On The Edge
by Nana40
Summary: She feels like she is standing on the edge of a cliff and she fears she will fall one day and he will not be there to catch her. This is based on the song 'Human' by Cristina Perri.


**This is based on the song 'Human' by Cristina Perri on a request from Sherlolly29, which is a great song and fits sherlolly very much.**

**A special thanks to adi-who-is-also-mou for editing this. Thnak you so much. :)**

* * *

_(She feels like she is standing on the edge of a cliff and she fears she will fall one day and he will not be there to catch her.)_

* * *

She is incapable of saying no to him.

It's almost like a compulsion, a reflex, he would ask and she would do it before he even finished asking.

He will stride into the hospital at night, just as she is finishing her shift, demand access to the lab, ask her to smuggle him body parts, order her to bring him coffee- the list was endless- and she will gladly comply.

Even though she is tired, even though she just finished a ten hours shift, even though all she wants to do is go home, have a bath, eat and go into a peaceful sleep, Tom is probably waiting for her at home,and she should really tell Sherlock no, but she doesn't.

She can't.

He will look at her with his cold blue eyes, tilt his head and quietly ask if she will please stay and help him if it is not too much of a problem and she knows it's all an act, an act done to make her agree, that he doesn't give a fig if it's trouble for her or not and she should really call him out on it, but she doesn't.

Instead she smiles tiredly, opens the lab door, prepares for the experiments he wants to perform, fakes a laugh at his weak attempt at humouring her on the few times he notices her wrecked state and places herself in the corner of a lab waiting for him to finish.

On rare occasions, he will smile gratefully, genuinely at her for everything she does for him, mutter a sincere thank you and she will forget that she has ever even wanted to say no.

_( She is incapable of saying no to him. That's fine, she never really wanted to.)_

* * *

Tom calls off the engagement.

The cause is Sherlock, of course. It is always him, it has always been him.

Few days after that, John Watson, along with his wife, an unknown boy and another unknown guy who she can tell is a druggie just by looking at him and last but not the least, Sherlock Holmes, who is wearing sweat pants, probably hasn't had a shower for days and is looking mildly irritated with having to pee in a jar appears at her lab.

She takes one look at him and knows what the test result will be, more than anything the guilt in his eyes that he is trying so hard to hide giving him away.

She sees red and she feels so angry that slapping him does nothing to lessen the tightness in her chest.

"Sorry your engagement is over, though I am grateful for the lack of a ring."

_He always says such horrible things._

Even now his barbs hurt her more than she wants to admit, but she won't, she doesn't let him get the upper hand this time.

He never once looks at her during the whole ordeal. She might have cried if he had.

He strides out of the lab in excitement, glad to have his name on the paper for his bloody case.

It's always about the case.

Why she keeps on hoping it will ever be about her she will never know.

_(The first crack appears on edge of the cliff and the fear that she will fall and he won't be there to catch her is growing with it.)_

* * *

Her hands still sting from the time she slapped him. She knows in her mind that it isn't actually stinging, it's just her imagination reminding her of the man she has always loved and her failure of giving up on the man she always knew would one day break her heart; one day break her in the process and she knows she will never be able to whole again. That scares her more than anything because she finds if given a choice, she would rather be broken by him than be whole alone.

Good thing, she never really had a choice.

Sherlock Holmes just walked in on her _stupid, stupid,_ boring life one day and the moment her eyes met his, she knew she was doomed.

_(She is only flesh and blood and so very human. __But __she is reaching her limit to how much she can endure.)_

* * *

John Watson calls, Sherlock had been shot, had flat lined but has successfully come back to life.

She desperately wants to go to the hospital, see how he is doing, make sure by her own eyes he is okay, she doesn't.

The guilt of slapping him and knowing that could have been her last memory with him restraining her.

_(Her hands start to sting again.)_

* * *

The paper posts news of Sherlock and his girlfriend. Shag-a-lot Holmes, seven times a night, ridiculously far-fetched stories.

John phones again and asks her why she didn't visit yet, and informs her of Sherlock's fake engagement.

She always knew Sherlock is capable of faking emotions, that he will do anything to get what he wants. Yet, in her wildest dreams she didn't imagine that he will be willing to stoop so low.

Then again, she has been fooling herself to be in love with Tom for a year now.

She isn't much better than him after all.

_("You really thought he was the one, didn't you? The love of Your life.")_

* * *

Sherlock Holmes goes missing.

Mary asks her about his bolt holes. She smiles awkwardly and informs Mary of her bedroom.

One of the many reasons her engagement broke.

Unbidden, his barb on her engagement flashes on her mind.

It continues to ring in her ear and haunt her for rest of the day.

_(The crack on the cliff is expanding and she is getting closer and closer towards her fall and her fear is turning into reality that he won't be there to catch her.)_

* * *

After days of calls from John, requesting her to come visit, that Sherlock is asking for her, she finally visits him.

"You came." Sometimes, he says the most obvious things.

"Yes." She is sitting by his bed. He still looks so pale and weak.

"I thought you wouldn't come." He appears uncomfortable, like he has been scared that she will never see him again.

"Why would you think that?" She knows very well why.

"You didn't visit until today. What else was I suppose to think?" He tries shrugging it off.

"The real reason Sherlock," She implores. She will not let him get away this time.

"I failed you. Again." His eyes meets her and she sees the guilt swimming there and even though his admission is as good as an apology to her- she has to pull away before the crack in her heart starts getting bigger than it already is.

"I am giving up on you," She informs him matter-of-factly. She _wants_ to, she _has_ to.

"_Don't._" Maybe it's just an illusion but she thinks she hears his voice crack, his eyes stormy with emotions she can't place.

She never once believed she counts but she wonders if having the one person who he probably thought will never give up on say that hurts him a little, just a little.

Her line of thinking is enough to tell her, she can't pull away, can't give up on him, not for now, at least.

Because she can _see_ him and he looks _sad._

Just like always she will sacrifice herself, her steadily breaking heart, just to make him not look _sad._

_("You can see me.")_

* * *

"I thought you were giving up on me," He states as she re-arranges his pillow. She visits him every day, now. Entertains him with autopsy reports, caters to his every need and she might be wrong but she thinks he looks forward to her visits.

"I am." She lies; trying her best to not let her emotions she wishes she could be just as cold and emotion less as him. Then again, he isn't really cold and emotion less. No, he is just a _wonderful, wonderful_ actor.

"Why are you here then?" His eyes seek hers for an answer and for a moment she thinks she sees fear and hope in his eyes but why would he care?

She is a being stupid again. She knows he does and that's why it has always been so hard to let him go. If only he didn't care, she could have so easily walked away.

She lets out a humourless laugh. "Because I'm a masochist."

He doesn't say anything to that.

He looks _sad_ again.

_("I don't count.")_

* * *

"You don't have to take care of me, you know." He says quietly.

"I know." She smiles sadly at him.

Silence.

"I don't need you," He insists vehemently all of a sudden.

"I know." She says, again.

He doesn't need her. She doesn't count, she doesn't matter to him.

She has always known. She doesn't understand why hearing it from his own mouth hurts her so much then.

She takes her bag, gives him one last kiss on the forehead and leaves immediately.

She never went back after that.

_(The crack on the cliff keeps on expanding and she is getting closer towards her fall. She knows he will not be there to catch her.)_

* * *

Sherlock recovers and starts taking cases. He doesn't come in the lab for his experiments any more. Conversation between them is stilted, to the point and lacking the remote resemblance of warmth it once had. It feels like the last two and a half years never happened.

She should be happy. He is slowly removing himself from her life. Maybe now she can final give up, get on with her own life and not spend her days trailing after him like a puppy.

She should be happy.

She has never looked so sad.

("_You look sad when you think no one can see you._")

* * *

She spends the Christmas with her family.

They are normal, it's dreadfully boring and all she can think about is Sherlock.

She isn't sure when, but Sherlock's become the sarcastic voice in her head, perking up every time her family did something stupid.

Later, when she checks her phone she sees multiple calls from John and Sherlock. Sherlock never calls.

She calls back but none of them answers. She phones but Mrs. Hudson she doesn't know anything either.

She panics, something must have happened.

Molly says goodbyes to her family and heads back towards London in the night.

She doesn't even know if something must have truly happened, she rushes back anyway.

_("If there is anything you need, anything at all, you can have me.")_

* * *

She can't reach Sherlock on the phone but she finds a voice message from him.

It doesn't say much, except that he is leaving England, that he won't ever be back again and words that broke her all over again.

_"I am sorry. Forgive me." _She has no idea what he is apologizing for.

Her hands and feet start to tremble, she can't see clearly and for the first time in a long time, she allows her tears to pour out.

He is not coming back.

She wasted so much time in trying to not love Sherlock; that she will never get the chance to tell him how much she does.

She loves him. Always has and it is a lost battle she has been fighting from the start.

_(The crack is still expanding and she feels herself on the verge of falling and there is no doubt he won't be there to catch her.)_

* * *

"_Did you miss me?"_

There is a new voice haunting her now, one that has been aired all throughout London.

There is a chance of her life being in danger. Strangely, she can't bring herself to care.

She is curled up in a ball on her sofa, clutching Toby tightly to herself.

She hears the door click, followed by familiar footsteps.

_No...Can't be_

She opens her eyes and locks them with those familiar blue green eyes.

_Hallucinations._

_She is going insane._

"Why are you here? Why won't you leave me alone?" She asks her imagination. Toby springs up from her lap and runs into her bedroom. The feline probably sensed her owner's mental state.

Her imagination blinks and answers, "Because I _need_ you."

_Oh...Oh_

He _is_ real. He is_ real._

All she ever wanted is for him to come back and now that he is here, she doesn't know if she is sad or happy. Her tears starts to pour out again. Funny, she didn't think she had any left.

"Is that you?" She asks him carefully.

He doesn't answer. Instead, he takes her hand in his and raises them to his cheek, an invitation to test for herself.

She uses both her hand and traces the line of his jaw, his lips, his forehead, making sure he is really there.

If it had been any other time, she will never have dared to touch him, but she needs assurance.

"You are back, then?" She tries removing her hand from his face, but he catches it and envelopes her small ones in his big large hands instead.

He nods. She doesn't expect it in the least but all of a sudden he is crushing her to his chest. He pulls her as close to her as he can and holds on to her for dear life, as if he is afraid she is going to be taken away from him. His embrace overwhelms her, every emotions she has every felt for him rushing back to her.

She never got the chance to tell him, she will now, not because she has any hope that he loves her back but because for once in her life she is going to be selfish and get those feelings out of her heart.

"I love you," She mumbles against his chest.

She feels him go stiff in her hold and she pulls away immediately. She expects him to look uncomfortable, maybe even disgusted, but his face shows nothing, nothing at all.

His eyes though, are dancing with emotions she can't place.

"I need you," He says again and she desperately wants to believe him, but she can't.

"I always have," He continues," and that scares me, more than anything."

He gazes into her eyes and all of a sudden she can believe him.

She can _see_ him and his eyes never lie.

"What are you scared of?"

"That you are stronger than me, that you want me but don't need me as much as I do. That if I allow myself to realise how much you count, how much you matter, how much I need you, that there would be no going back. I will fall in too deep and then one day, if you don't want me anymore and leave me, I will not be able to get up again."

"What changed?"

"I realized I had fallen far too deep, anyway."

She has no idea who moved first but all of a sudden they were all over each other, his lips on hers. They keep on kissing each other repeatedly, sloppy, wet kisses. It's all passionate and sweet and filled with so much longing, that there stays no doubt in her heart he saying the truth.

This new change in their relationship terrifies her as much as it lifts her heart, but she has lost her heart to him a long time ago and maybe it's time to trust him with it too.

_(She is still standing on the edge of a cliff and the crack is still there, but she has hope that he might just be there to catch her when she falls.)_

* * *

"Marry me." It's not a question or a request, it's a demand. It's only a few hours after his return and his confession.

"Yes," Her face spills into a real grin after a long time. Maybe it's an abrupt decision on both their parts, maybe they will change their mind later, maybe they are being idiots. Right now, she can't bring herself to care.

_(She is incapable of telling him no. Then again, she has never really wanted to.)_

* * *

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